The Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Volume 1

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Macmillan, 1908
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Page 540 - Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and shell, While horse and hero fell, They that had fought so well Came thro...
Page 350 - Love took up the glass of Time, and turn'd it in his glowing hands ; Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands. Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might ; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight.
Page 209 - Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height; To hear each other's whisper'd speech; Eating the Lotos day by day, To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And tender curving lines of creamy spray; To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of mild-minded melancholy...
Page 394 - A maiden Knight — to me is given Such hope, I know not fear; I yearn to breathe the airs of Heaven That often meet me here. I muse on joy that will not cease, Pure spaces clothed in living beams, Pure lilies of eternal peace, Whose...
Page 2 - Her court was pure; her life serene; God gave her peace; her land reposed; A thousand claims to reverence closed In her as Mother, Wife, and Queen; 'And statesmen at her council met Who knew the seasons when to take Occasion by the hand, and make The bounds of freedom wider yet 'By shaping some august decree, Which kept her throne unshaken still, Broad-based upon her people's will, And compass'd by the inviolate sea.
Page 132 - I cannot hide that some have striven, Achieving calm, to whom was given The joy that mixes man with Heaven; 'Who, rowing hard against the stream, Saw distant gates of Eden gleam, And did not dream it was a dream...
Page 601 - Speak to Him thou for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet — Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet. God is law, say the wise ; O Soul, and let us rejoice, For if He thunder by law the thunder is yet His voice. Law is God, say some : no God at all, says...
Page 455 - I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally, And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
Page 538 - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns," he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Page 176 - And one, an English home— gray twilight pour'd On dewy pastures, dewy trees, Softer than sleep — all things in order stored, A haunt of ancient Peace.

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